


Wild Wood Snippets

by Dellessa



Series: The Wild Wood [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets in The Wild Wood Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I. Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepheonixqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepheonixqueen/gifts), [patrickthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickthewriter/gifts).



The drive back to New Orleans was long. Misty slept most of the time in the backseat, a blanket over her head. The conversation between Kyle and Zoe up front lulled her to sleep as much as the steady vibration from the SUV. 

She took her own turn at driving in the middle of the night. The eleven hour trip seemed to drag on. Zoe took the wheel when they hit the city limits, but Misty did not go back to sleep. She stared out and watched the old houses pass by. It looked the same as she remembered. Her death had changed as little as her life. 

Cordelia was waiting for them when they pull up. She doesn’t look the way Misty remembered. Gone are the empty sockets, and acid scars. Her eyes are bright, her skin glowing, and the smile on her face is genuine. She pulled Misty close, hugging her tightly. Misty felt wetness against her neck, and realized Cordelia was crying. 

Misty pulled away and looked at her, “You know. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I tried to save you. I would have done anything to.” 

“I know you would have. It’s okay. Promise.” Misty smiled at her, and felt nothing but relief. It wasn’t going to be like last time. They weren’t going to try to make her into something she wasn’t. “I am glad to be back, though. Ah...I can stay here, right?” 

“You are coven. This is always home,” Cordelia said, and hope bloomed in Misty’s chest.


	2. II. On Freedom’s Eve (Some Years Later)

Living in two worlds was hard. Two worlds for now, anyway. Arthur did not plan to keep it that way. Lance had insisted he at least finished college before he made any decisions. He humored his adoptive father. It was no decision for him at all. 

Stella threw his arms around Arthur’s neck, and rested his chin on the other man’s shoulder. “Looking sharp. Are you ready?” 

Arthur gave him a sour look through the mirror. “You know I hate parties. I would leave right now if it would not upset Lance.” He made a whining noise and put his hands over Stella’s. “I’m ready to leave.” 

“I know you are, but Lance does not. He doesn't have anyone else but you.” 

“I just want to be with you,” Arthur grumbled. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but it felt like he had put his life on hold indefinitely. 

“I’m here.” 

“You know that isn’t what I mean. You can’t just...just go out with me.” 

Stella shrugged, “Because I don’t quite look human, because I can’t just blend in? Yes, i suppose that is a bit of a problem. I don't’ mind staying here though. My grandmother WAS a Brownie. They do love keeping house.” 

Arthur snorted, “You are ridiculous.” 

“It is only the truth. I really don’t mind. It is not like I don’t get out. I do get to go places. I get to see Puck, and the barrow. You know Hyacinth is making everyone ice cream tonight. She said she would bring some over for your party. Just thing, fresh strawberries and cream.” 

Arthur turned, resting his forehead against Stella’s. “Do you always think with your stomach?” 

Stella’s lips curled up into a slow, and lazy smile. “No, but you have to admit it does sound delicious. Our little Hyacinth has turned into quite the little chef. She is thinking about culinary school, did you know that? Pucks in heaven. Well...you know what I mean.” 

“Yes, I know what you mean. I wish he would go with us,” Arthur said. 

“I don't’ think that is going to happen. He didn’t take the trip down there well.” 

Arthur gulped. “I remember.” It still hurt a bit. “I’ve never seen him so mad. He yelled at Hazel.” 

“I would hope you could see it from his point of view,” Stella said. “There was a lot of lies and deception flying around. I think I would be just as angry as he was.” 

“We need to go,” Arthur said, cutting the conversation short. He was always antsy when it came to talking about the past. He looked back at the mirror. They both looked passable. “Lets go down. I’m sure they are all here already.” 

Stella laughed. “You look like you are going to your own execution. Smile a little, darling.” 

“I will smile when this is over and we can finally go home.” 

Stella rolled his eyes. There was little else he could do.


	3. III. Always There

Hyacinth took a bite of the ice cream she had made. The strawberries just made it. They had been picked from the garden at the perfect time. They were sweet with just the right amount of tart.

“Continue on and you will eat it all up before our guest of honor gets a bite,” Olive teased. 

“It would serve him right he’s been a prickly brat,” Hyacinth said. 

“You are so predictable,” Olive said, leaning on the counter. She propped her chin on her hands. “Puck gets upset, and whomever he is upset with you are as well.” 

“It’s called solidarity.” 

Olive snorted, “It that what they are calling it now?” 

Hyacinth’s cheeks slowly turned red. It creeped down her neck. “You are horrible.” 

“I’m pretty sure Helen would agree. It’s cute thought. You are very faithful. I’ve always admired that in you.” 

Hyacinth scooped the ice cream into a container, and placed it in the freezer, ignoring Olive until she was finished. “Please stop teasing me about that.” 

“I don't know what the big deal is. It’s not like dad and mom doesn't approve.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Uh, yeah I do. I asked,” Olive said. “I think we are all kinda tired of you making moon eyes at each other.” 

“Meddler,” Hyacinth said, but there was no heat to it. “Ugh. Fine. I will talk to him when the party's over. If he breaks my heart I’m blaming you.” 

“So dramatic. I sometimes wonder how we lived past your teenage years, you’re such a drama llama.” 

Hyacinth glared. 

“I’m just kidding. Loosen up a bit. I only tease you because I love you.” 

“You tease me because you are bored.” 

Olive barked a laugh, “There is that too.”

oOoOoOoOo

It felt like all of the air had escaped her lungs when it came time to talk to Puck after the party. She felt clammy and her hands were sweaty. 

Puck looked calm when she was finished explaining herself. 

“Took you long enough,” he finally said. “I swear to the Goddess I’ve loved you since we were kids.” 

Hyacinth looked at him, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me.” 

“I told you all the time, Cyn. You just weren’t ready to hear it.”


	4. IV. Going Home

They didn’t leave for the barrow like Arthur had wanted. Stella’s words had sunk in leaving him uneasy. They could live there until they couldn’t, watch after his father. Eventually they would have to leave, but that would be a long way off. He had already stopped ageing. It was disconcerting, but expected. The effects had slowed, but eventually he had settled in. He figured it could have been worse, Hyacinth had stopped at sixteen. She was a short, tiny thing. He at least had his adult height.

He turned his attention back to Stella, and shivered. He had wanted his first time to be special. They had waited, and waited. Arthur was tired of waiting. He locked the door behind them, and pulled Stella close before tumbling them back onto the bed. 

“A-are you sure?” Arthur mumbled. 

Stella laughed, “I should be asking you the same thing, but yes. I’m sure. I’ve always been sure.” He turned his head, catching Arthur’s lips with his own. He kissed Arthur in a way that left little doubt of his intentions. He pressed Arthur back into the soft covers, and started to methodically strip off his cloths. He didn’t stop until they were both bare, skin to skin. Arthur felt like he was burning. 

Stella’s touch blazed against him. He was tempted to check for marks of ash and burns, but he just kissed Stella back instead. He would go up in a conflagration if necessary. He would do anything for Stella.


	5. V. Of Kith and Kind

They are not her real parents. They told her as soon as they thought she was old enough to understand. It’s too late for her to care. She knew that they are the best parents that she could have had. They are understanding, and giving. They loved her unconditionally, and without them she never would have met Puck. 

Her birth father still lived in town, she doesn’t know what happened to her mother (nor does she care when she is honest with herself). He had already moved on. Remarried. Had another child. She watched them from a window once, more out of curiosity than a need to meet him. Puck held her hand while she watched them. He didn’t say a word, and she loved him for that. 

She couldn't love the people in that house. It wasn’t in her. She knew that they would measure up. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” she had asked Puck while she held his hand. 

“No. Never think that,” Puck said. “You are perfect as you are, and you know---you know we love you. Right?” 

She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I know. I just don’t care about them. They don’t matter to me. I think they probably should, but I just don’t feel anything.” 

“They just aren’t your family. They are people that you don’t know,” Puck said, and she nodded. 

“Yes. That is exactly it. I don’t want to know them. I think...I think I want to go home.” 

They walked back home together, hand in hand. He never mentioned the trip, and she never asked to go back. She did think that her parents were expecting some kind of fallout. They expected her to be angry at them, and they were confused when that never happened.


	6. VI. A Ghost of a Chance

Arthur was not sure where he got the idea from, but trapping the ghost and removing her from the house seemed the best idea. Trapping her was easier said than done, but eventually a spelled vase did the trick. It was almost like catching fireflies, he would tell Hyacinth later, except it was his mother and she was dead, and not nearly as harmless as the bugs in question. 

He had taken the vase down into the barrow, releasing her. He stepped back, waiting for a wail that never came. She stared back at him with pale blue eyes, and looked so much like the pictures from his youth that he drew in a shaky breath. “Mother?” 

She can’t her head to the side, looking puzzled, and looked at him in such a way that it felt like a physical touch. ‘I know you’ the look said. ‘I should know you.’

“You were scaring dad. He can’t sleep,” Arthur said. “It would be better if you stayed here.”

“Arthur?” she finally said, and looked shocked at her own voice. 

“Yes mother?” 

“I thought we had lost you. I dreamed you were taken away and they wouldn’t let you come back to me.” 

“It wasn’t a dream,” Arthur finally said. “I’m sorry, mother. I really am.” 

She took a step close, and touched him. He was surprised to feel flesh and bone beneath his hands. “So am I. For everything.”


	7. VII. Our Day Job

Hyacinth kicked her legs back and forth as she watched Olive put the books back in order. She took her job seriously, and had a fancy degree hanging up on the wall besides. ‘Masters of Library Science’. It sounded much more interesting than Hyacinth’s art degree. THere was other degrees as well. Oberon jokingly said that Olive was trying her best to go through the alphabet and collect a degree with each letter. It made Hyacinth wonder how long it would take for her to get to Zoology. 

“You know you //can// help me,” Olive declared. “You don’t just have to sit there and stare off into space.”

“I wasn’t staring. I was deep in thought,” Hyacinth declared. “Important stuff.” 

“Ha. Right. I’ve seen what you consider important stuff. Get over here and help me.” 

Hyacinth gasped dramatically. “Olive! Do you doubt my sincerity.” 

“Always. Come on.” 

Hyacinth laughed as she hopped off of the table, “You are the brattiest sister I have.” 

“You only have two.” 

“Yeah, I know, and Helen would never make me do her work.” She gave Olive a little smile and a peck on the cheek, taking away the bite from the comment. She accepted a pile of books and began to put them away slowly. Olive demanded a neat library, as much as Helen demanded a neat music room. They were very much alike. 

“Yeah, well, we’ve both heard you try to sing, and your piano playing skills aren’t much better,” can you blame her?” 

“No, can’t say I can,” Hyacinth said cheerfully.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they finished putting up the books. Despite her complaining Hyacinth enjoyed every minute she spent with her two sisters. 

“Are you coming to dinner tonight? Papa misses you,” Hyacinth said. 

“And mama doesn’t?” Olive asked, brow raised.

“She does, that is a given,” Hyacinth snorted. “It would just be nice to see you all together. You know this won’t last forever.” 

“Nothing lasts forever” Olive agreed, “but I think it will last a good time still. Yeah, we’ll be there. I’ll drag her there if I have to. She’s practicing for the party for Hazel. You know how much of a perfectionist she is.” 

Hyacinth nodded, “Oh I do. I really do. Well...I will see you at home tonight.” She gave Olive a quick hug, “Love you.” 

“I love you too,” Olive said, already heading up to the desk to do whatever it was she did all day, aside from put up books. It was a mystery to Hyacinth, one that she wasn’t too keen on digging deeper into.


	8. VIII. Whistle While You Work

Helen carefully put up her own instrument, and checked over the other musicians before she left. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them...but she didn’t really trust them. While she realized that issues with the entertainment for the grand ball would not cause a war between the courts as it once would have she had gained a fair share of her adopted father’s paranoia. She did not want to be the reason for strife between the two courts. Peace was better. 

She closed up the room, locking the precious instruments away, and made her way out of the barrow. The walk through the woods was not long. It always soothed her nerves. She finally made it home to find her family (and then some) waiting. 

Hyacinth was still in the kitchen with Puck’s brother. Helen was not going to complain, they made scrumptious dishes together. 

Olive was stretched across one of the settee, with her nose in a book (also commonplace). Helene was not sure how she tuned out the boys in front of the television playing some video game with the sound cranked up too loud (and was that shooting and blood splatter? Yes, apparently.)

She peeked into the drawing room, but didn’t go inside when she spotted Arthur’s father talking to Oberon. He looked tired and drawn. It was hard not to feel sorry for him. She was glad he had came all the same. He didn’t often enough. 

Helen circled back into the living area and claimed her own chair (if you didn’t stake a claim you would inevitable end up on the floor), and sat back to people watch. It was nearly as relaxing as the walk home.


	9. IX. Bloodlines

Hazel touched her stomach for the millionth time. It felt odd. Unbelievable. She had not really given any thought to children, and yet here she was, ready to pop. It was hard not to have anything but a sense of humor about it. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Finn asked, for the billionth time, not that Hazel was counting. 

“Mmm...I’m fine. Just thinking. We’ve come a long way.” She gave him a pleased smile. They had, and somehow she had even convinced her father to come to the barrow. That in itself was a miracle. He had given the place wide berth after Arthur had shown him where he had really been captive, and now that Gwen roamed the halls he stayed as far as humanly possible while still living in the same town. 

She didn’t blame him of a moment. 

She did blame her brother for not coming more often, but she knew that was the way of young love. He was so wrapped up in Stella that he didn't’ seem to notice anything else (She blamed Stella as well.)

“You sure?” Finn asked, doubt in her voice. 

Her lips curl. “I’m fine, promise.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Better than fine, in fact.”


	10. X. Pristine Keepers of Innocence

Hyacinth watched them, but from far away. She never gets near the gate. She had learned that lesson and paid dearly for it. She would like hate them, but it would be like hating the weather. It is a force of nature. It just IS. You accept it and move on. 

She doesn’t talk to their keeper. She knew what they do, and she didn’t agree with it. It was something that had it’s place with the dark court. It should not have tinged their doorway, but it does. It left her sick with it. 

Sometimes she wonders what Eldritch would have become if he had had the chance to grow up. She can’t picture it though, he is forever a child in her mind. 

She still felt guilty after all that time. 

“You need to let it go,” Puck said as he came up behind her. “Fretting over it is not going to change the past. And I’m sorry, but I don’t want it to.” 

She gave him a sideways glance. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m glad you care enough to fay that. I just...I screwed up.” 

“From what I heard it was not your fault. Far from it. You were a child. I doubt you even understood what would have happened,” Puck said.

Her breath hitches. “It hurts.” 

“And it always will, Cyn. We all hurt.” He pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. “It’s just part of living.”


	11. XI. Librarians enjoying quiet

Rain pitter-pattered on the windows. It was not quite a deluge, but it was close. This sort of weather usually heralded a slow day, hot chocolate, and curling up with a good book in the reading area. Izzy smiled as she walked through the stacks and picked out a book. It seemed like it was a non fiction day, so she wandered in that direction. Local folklore today. That was always good for a laugh. 

Tristan met her on the way to the reading room, blankets in one hand, and a book on King Tut in the other. Nick was already in the room, and setting own a tray of hot chocolate. Steam rose up from the mugs, perfuming the room with the scent of Chocolate and spices. 

Izzy loved these days. There was something comforting in the smell of old books and wood polish. The floor creaked beneath her chair as she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position to sit. She sipped the hot cocoa and slowly opened her book. Peace was nice. She could get used to this.


	12. XII. Remembrance

Hazel would visit Mab’s grave at least once a week. Sometimes she would just sit in the shade of the trees they buried her under, sometimes she would talk of her troubles. There was a large stone cairn marking her burial place and benches around it. with flowerbeds containing shade loving flowers. She wasn’t sure if Mab would approve. She had never had the chance to know her aunt. It was just another thing her mother had taken from her. It hurt. It wounded her deeply, and Hazel did not know how to fix this rent in her being. 

It was overcast she she visited this time. The clouds above gathered and threatened to overflow. Hazel sat down on the bench, and looked at the mound. It was modest as these things go. They had burried her aunt with her most prized possessions, and they had found things that they had not expected. Spellbooks that had long since believed lost, and relics from both courts. Oberon had been ecstatic, and so had Finn. Hazel thought it was too high of a price to gain such things back. She was an outsider though, it made it so much more clear to her in that moment. She was out of her depth. 

It made her try harder. These were her people now, and she owed it to them to try to understand them and their culture. Perhaps she owed that to her aunt as well. 

She grew up.


	13. XIII. Returning the Favor

Olive remembered bits of what happened. Enough pieces that she was glad for the gaps, and happier still that they had taken away the result. She didn’t want to see the thing that she had produced. 

She took a certain glee in the fact that Morgana was going through what she had, only the terrible woman would not escape. She figured that it made her a bad person, but she found not find it in herself to care. Not after all she was forced to go through. The red mare was bred each year. For one of the fae she was fertile, and produced a foal each year. Some of the children were shape shifters and Oberon found them homes amongst his people. Some were sent off to other clans. None were allowed to stay with their dam. 

Hazel never visited them, or her. Olive could not blame her. The poor girl had the worse of it, and it was obvious that she was hurting something horrible. Time was a slow healer of wounds, especially where there was no real sense of closure. 

Olive was just glad that Hyacinth had not been touched by the woman as well. Arthur had not escaped unscathed. He would sometimes visit her. He cared in spite of himself, even if he did hold out anger on behalf of his adopted father. 

Lance would have seen her sent away from them all. He was, perhaps, hurt the most of all. It was a pity. He was a good man.   
-  
She had wounded him beyond all repair. THey could all see that, but Arthur. He was blind to it. He didn’t want to accept it. The boy wanted nothing more than to run away to the barrow with his lover. She envied him that. She new she would never be loved. It was not in her any longer. There had been something wrenched from her, and it was not something she would ever get back. She did not like to be touched and she would never put herself into a position where she would have sex again. It bore no interest to her anylonger. Quite the opposite. She was repelled by it. 

Morgana had made her come undone and she would never find herself again.

She wished it had been different. 

As a child she had always hoped that she would find that special someone. She had hoped that they would get married and...well...be happy. It wasn’t in the cards (tarot or otherwise). Helen felt much the same. They both had been scarred deep inside. 

It still hurt, and it had been years. 

She hoped it would stop in a millennia, but she was not holding her breath.


	14. XIV. Ariel

Ariel was an unexpected child, but she fit into their family well. All four of her sisters doted on her, and Titania thanked whatever deities existed for that fact. She had never hoped to have one child and yet she had been graced with four beautiful daughters. 

Arial ran down the stairs, bright red hair flagging out behind her like a banner. She flung herself at Hyacinth, who caught her easily enough despite her size. 

“Baby I love you, but you weigh a ton,” Hyacinth grunted under her sister’s weight, the swayed and fell to the floor, laughing. At thirteen she was nearly as tall as Hyacinth, but more willowy. She was all gangly limbs, and a great lack of grace. 

“I’m not heavy,” Ariel declared. “I’m as light as a feather.” 

Hyacinth laughed, “Maybe a cement feather. Otherwise, not. Just no.” She wiggled her way out from under Ariel, and stood with Puck’s help. Ever the gentleman he helped up Ariel as well. 

Secretly she was glad to welcome him into the family once she had realized that was the way the wind was blowing. Hyacinth could certainly do much worse, and it was obvious that they cared for one another deeply. 

“You don’t appreciate me,” Ariel muttered. 

“We do,” Puck said. “We really do.” 

“Just not when you bowl me over,” Hyacinth said. She squinted Ariel’s way, making the worse face. 

“Oh, you two,” Titania said. “Go get ready for dinner, and no fighting. We will have guests tonight. Go, go. Off with you all.” 

She watched them hurry off, and Hyacinth link arms with Puck. It made her feel like everything was going to be okay.


	15. XV. In Time

Hazel looked down at the child in her arms and tried her best to reconcile that this child was hers. The little girl closed her eyes, and continued to sleep. She had dark hair like her father, and silver eyes that the midwife said would probably change in colour. Hazel hoped they would not. She was a perfect little thing with the daintiest fingers and toes. They were so tiny that it amazed Hazel. She couldn't fathom that SHE had helped create this life. She did. Hazel found herself laughing, she had not even managed to graduate from high school. But somehow she was qualified to help rule the dark court, and worse take care of this little life. 

She felt more overwhelmed that she had in years. 

“Have you thought of a name?” Finn asked. He leaned over, and brushed a hand against the child’s forehead. 

“No. I haven’t.” 

“How about Pearl? It fits her.” 

“It does,” Hazel said, and took a deep breath. “It really does.” 

“Pearl, than?” 

“Yes,” Hazel agreed. “It’s perfect.” 

Finn wrapped an arm around her, “She is very much like her mother than.” 

Hazel, leaned into him, “You only say that because you love me.” 

“I only say that because it is the truth.”


	16. XVI. Arthur and Stella

They sat up on the roof, as they did many days in the past. They leaned against one another, arms wrapped around one another. The air was chill, but it always was at this time of year. The leaves had turned, and the children were out trick-or-treating. They sat on the roof, watching them in the distance. It was easy to pick them out with the bouncing lights of their flashlights. 

This night always brought back bad memories, but it brought on good ones as well. Stella held him tightly and somehow that made it better.


End file.
